


Word Games

by MsBee



Series: Lore and Ishara - Eclectic Tales [4]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Robot/Human Relationships, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 07:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19001326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBee/pseuds/MsBee
Summary: In which Ishara wants to improve her reading and Lore regrets his offer of help.





	Word Games

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of an epilogue to my other fic ‘Closed Books’ which brought up Ishara’s reading skills, but it also stands alone as a bit of silliness.

“Lore, what does voluptuary mean?”

“A person or lifestyle devoted to pleasure.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell again in the cockpit.

Most days Lore liked the hours that constituted an evening in the onboard routine of the ship. He liked to sit in the pilot’s chair, ostensibly checking the navigation unit but secretly enjoying the sense of movement as the stars slipped by outside. The eternal darkness of space was a cocoon, making the small cockpit seem intimate.

He also liked it when Ishara sat next to him, talking randomly, her soft voice an anchor that stopped him drifting into introspection.

What he didn’t like was Ishara focusing on her PADD in silence. Apart from asking his help with a few words she had hardly spoken to him since she sat down. He felt petulant at being used as a walking dictionary and annoyed with himself that he had been the one to suggest it in the first place.

These were the consequences of being nice, he reminded himself irritably. A good deed in a moment of weakness might seem harmless at the time - but it always came back to bite you later.

Ishara sat curled in the co-pilot’s chair wearing her short silk robe, hair still damp from the shower. Her expression was intent. As part of her self-assigned mission to improve her reading skills she had chosen a complex novel from the small selection on the ship’s computer and now she was labouring over it, too proud to give up and admit defeat.

Lore sighed inwardly, at this rate it would take her a month to finish the book. It was his own fault though, he had encouraged her to practice - and stupidly offered to help. She was clever enough, for a human, and he was sure that she could improve quickly.

It still surprised him that he had never noticed her lack of reading ability, made him feel like he’d - what was that sporting expression his father used to use? - ‘taken his eye off the ball’ somehow.

Perhaps he had been blinded by her other skills - she was incredibly talented at reading blueprints, technical schematics and maps, sometimes even pointing out things that he had seen but failed to interpret correctly. Her memory for those things was sharp too, he knew that a glance at a street plan was often enough for her to be able to navigate a city with confidence.

The whole episode had made him aware of all the things that she didn’t talk about; Turkana IV, her childhood, her cadre, and most of all, her sister... He knew that he tended to underestimate Ishara, patronisingly dismiss her as happy with market stalls and cushions, but when it came to it she was deep. He could pin her down for a week, trying to extract information and, as much as she gave, there would still be more surprises left hidden.

Right now Lore found the idea of pinning her down and making sure he had her full attention very attractive.

Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of Ishara shifting restlessly in her chair, stretching her bare legs so that they entered his field of vision. He gave her a quick glance. She hadn’t bothered to tug the robe back into place after she moved and now more creamy skin was revealed.

Her voice brought him back to the present, “What does - uh, I can’t...”

“Spell it,” he snapped.

“A-r-e-o-l-a,” she spelt out.

Lore missed a beat, his eyes flicking automatically down to the front of her robe. The thin silk clung to her damp skin, outlining everything. Although his memory told him in perfect detail what was under the fabric he felt the familiar compulsion to check again.

“A ring, or halo,” he replied carefully, wondering what the hell she was reading. As far as he knew there weren’t any erotic novels on the ship’s computer - unless you found Pakled economic history a turn-on.

Seemingly from nowhere the strange idea that the words weren’t even in her book occurred to him. After all Ishara knew plenty of words, she just wasn’t good at reading them. Could she be trying to get his attention? Which words had she asked about already?

Gyrating, wanton, voluptuary, areola - Yes, there was a definite theme developing. Had she been seducing him for the last half hour without him even noticing?

He waited impatiently to see what would come next. He wasn’t disappointed.

“What about ‘pulsating’?” Ishara asked. Her tone was neutral enough but the android could almost feel her anticipating his answer.

“Throbbing... trembling...,” Lore purred the words, shooting her a sensual sidelong glance, “Vibrating...”

The atmosphere in the cockpit was suddenly torrid. Ishara dropped her gaze and managed to squeak, “Oh.” The corners of her mouth curled into a smile she couldn’t suppress before she managed to straighten her expression again.

Ha, he knew it! The cheeky minx!

“What about congress?” she inquired after a moment or two, stretching her legs again.

“Congress?” Lore repeated incredulously, barely able to smother a laugh. Where had she picked up such an old fashioned term for sex?

Her blue green eyes were dancing with mischief now, and with the pretence of innocence abandoned her smile was bright and knowing.

If she wanted to seduce him, then fine, he was completely and utterly seduced.

“Ah, Ishara,” he stretched out his hand to catch her arm and began to pull her inexorably toward him, “that one I’ll have to show you.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, it’s a silly, sexy little word game for Lore/Ishara but I’ve also written this as a word game with myself - challenging myself to write a short fluffy ficlet (no longer than 1000 words) with no angst allowed. I might try writing a Lore/Ishara drabble (100 words) sometime but all my ideas seem to be longish. :/


End file.
